How I yearn for pages past,
Poetictimes format did not last.
No ship can sail without a mast,
No more poetry is loading fast.

Woe! again, the site drags on,
Stars that were, are now gone.
Just links I see, like a layed out lawn,
Wobbling like a new born fawn.

Alas! the site may never change,
For I still smell the smell of sage.
In my books I turn one more page,
Before dinner cools in the metal cage. e__e
 
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